not all those who wander are lost
by SmellsLikeTeenSpirt
Summary: Bilbo had been happy. For a time at least. Before he lost his way, before he was surrounded by this desolation and despondency. Before that thrice dammed stone had impinged itself in their lives. Now all that Bilbo could see was the all consuming darkness that shrouded his vision and left his heart in tatters. (Sequel to all that is gold does not glitter.)
1. Prologue

Bilbo had been happy. For a time at least.

Before he lost his way, before he was surrounded by this desolation and despondency. Before that thrice dammed stone had impinged itself in their lives. Now all that Bilbo could see was the all consuming darkness that shrouded his vision and left his heart in tatters. The earth he had stood on was cold and wet, watered with freshly fallen rain and blood of fallen Orcs, Men, Elves and Dwarrow alike.

Not for the first time that day, Bilbo feels his heart constrict painfully in his chest and weeks of unshead tears pool in his hazel eyes at the sight of his husbands battered and bruised body laid out before him. Fresh cuts and bruises littered his handsome face and his right cheek is grazed enough that the blood dripped down, joining the dark pool that is seeping through his royal blue tunic.

The Hobbit reaches out slowly with a trembling hand.

It feels like an age since he has last touched his husband and he has to will away the bile rising in his throat when his hand connects with the space where Thorin's heart lies. The blood seeps between his fingers, squishing softly.

Blood. So much blood.

No longer can Bilbo ignore the screaming in his head or his heart and with a shuddering intake of breath, he finally breaks. Broken hearted sobs filter through room as Bilbo finally loses himself, his heart a twisted and mutilated mess. He cries for his husband, he cries for his companions that fought and paid with their lives and at last, Bilbo cries for himself.

"Bilbo Baggins, you foolish Hobbit!" Even to himself, he sounds broken, desolate and defeated. _How could you have been so stupid? Ridiculous Hobbit, how could this have ended any differently?_

So lost in his grief he was, Bilbo didn't even hear the dull thud of boots in the corridor or the sound of the door clicking open behind him. It was only the hand resting gently on his shoulder that pulled the Hobbit from his grief stricken stupor. Turning with a gasp, Bilbo studies the intruder through blurred eyes and is met with the faces of a sadly smiling Óin and Nori. Irrational as it may be, the Hobbit couldn't help the surge of anger that welled up inside of him at the intrusion. Never before had he laid himself so bare and in his time spend in the mountain, Bilbo had learned it was necessary to harden himself. To show emotion among such a stern and austere race was to be weak, and Bilbo could never let them see that. From the very start being around the Dwarves had never failed to make him feel painfully self-conscious and inadequate. Being in Erebor, surrounded by them, some more pleasant then others, did nothing to quell that. And so now, with all his walls well and truly broken down and the intimate moment with his barely there husband interrupted, Bilbo believed it could be justified.

"What?" He questioned sharply but there was no real fight behind it. Bilbo didn't have it in him, not anymore. What could it achieve? It couldn't stop the constant ache in his chest, it couldn't right all the wrongs and it most certainly couldn't ensure Thorin would come back to him.

Óin showed no signs of heading the Hobbits tone. "Lad, I know you'll not like it but you're going to have to leav-"

"No."

Bilbo turned to the two challenging them, but any effect that his glare made of had, it was lost by tears still flowing down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry Bilbo." He nodded his head in Nori's direction and the thief stepped forward gently but firmly grasping Bilbo's upper arms, that same pitying smile on his face.

"No. No. _No_. I can't leave him." He struggled in Nori's grasp, but any attempt to escape it would have been futile. "Not like this!"

"Bilbo! Hey! Come here. Óin will need space if he is going to try help Thorin and he can't very well do that if you are in the state you're in now." Somewhere in his mind it registered with Bilbo that it was true. He could do nothing but get in the way but it still didn't make him anymore willing to leave. The only thing that could-

"Frodo! Where is Frodo!?" Bilbo hadn't seen his son since before the battle. He was back in the mountain where Bilbo could have only hoped he would be safe and sheltered from all the horrors that battle brought with it. He was just a baby. His baby and if he could help it, and he could, he would remain oblivious to such things for as long as possible.

"He's with Balin and is safe and houses he is!" The thief winked at Bilbo, who sagged in relief at his words. Frodo was safe and for a moment the pain in Bilbo's heart ebbed and a weight felt as if it was lifted off his shoulders. Half of Bilbo's heart may have been in shambles but now he knew his little boy was safe he felt it swell in his chest.

All he had to do was pray he could salvage the other half.


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo woke and pulled the thick blanket up to his neck and tried to get back to sleep with just it covering him, but it was still just too cold. This was, they told him as always, probably the last week of the biting cold; soon the temperature would rise and he wouldn't even be needing the blankets.

The Hobbit had snorted at that.

"Not bloody likely." He grumbled to himself, trying to find a comfortable position.

Four years. Four years he had been in Erebor and still Bilbo just couldn't adjust to the winters under the mountain, and it seemed that living in the royal chambers did little to quell the bitter cold that hung in the air during these long months. A small opening high above his head informed Bilbo that it was, in fact still dark. He did not mind being woken as long as it was still dark outside and he could curl up next to Thorin knowing there would be time to doze before he would have to go about his day.

Moments like this were few and far between, especially when a rambunctious four year old with a seemingly endless supply of energy demanded your attention.

Bilbo smiled in spite of himself. In all of his dreams, he pondered as he lay in their large bed, of how the past few years had been Bilbo thought of Thorin. His attentions, how he held Bilbo against him at night, his arms around him and that smile he so rarely gave to anyone but Bilbo and their son.

_Oh, but when he did. _

With that, Bilbo turned his head to the side and gave an indulgent smile at the still sleeping body next to him. Thorin lay on his back, hair sprawled over his pillow and a contented look on his face. In sleep Bilbo noticed how his features lost some of their severity making him appear years younger. Sleep it seemed was that only time that Thorin could truly be at ease, what with the pressures that came with running a kingdom as grand as Erebor seemingly never ending.

The Hobbit leaned over and brushed some of the dark strands that obstructed Thorin's face from his view to one side and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips. Thorin stirred slightly at the feeling but soon fell into an even deeper sleep. Bilbo gave one last indulgent stretch before hoping of the bed, and readying himself for the day.

The Winters in Erebor were harsher then Bilbo was used to.

Much, _much _harsher.

Even in the coldest of seasons The Shire rarely saw such things but outside of the sturdy mountain gates Bilbo would bet good coin that the snow could easily bury him if he dared to venture out into the blistering cold. No, Bilbo was all too pleased to stay within the confines of the mountain walls and listen to the howling winds from the comfort of the royal chambers, curled up in his favourite armchair with a good book for company.

Unfortunately for him, his son had other ideas.

Frodo, Bilbo had learned since the moment his son could crawl was quite the adventurous spirit and more then once had nearly worked Bilbo into a full-on panic attack when had wandered of on one of his "adventures." Thorin would only chuckle when he would find the boy under their bed or toddling into his meeting rooms.

"_H__onestly." __Bilbo would sigh as he scooped up his son and inspected him for injury. "I__t's no wonder Frodo is so reckless!" The Hobbit scoff__ed__. "Not hard to see where he gets that from." _

_The last part was said under his breath but Thorin did not miss it. This was a familiar argument between the two and the King learned soon enough it was in his best interest to just agree and let nothing more be said on the matter. He learned his lesson during a particularly heated conversation after Frodo had managed to, once again, land himself in some sort of trouble. The cause, Thorin could not recall, but it ended with a rather peeved Dwalin carrying the tiny Dwobbit by his braces to the Royal chambers. Frodo had the good grace to look sheepish as he was deposited into Thorin's arms, looking up at his father with those big blue eyes that were half hidden under unruly black curls. _

_How could he scold the boy when he looked at him with those thrice dammed eyes? _

Currently Frodo was tugging at Bilbo's trouser leg and pestering him about going to play in the much shallower, but no less cold snow outside of their quarters. He sighed and marked the page of the book he was reading with his thumb. He was more then used to these sort of interruptions at this point and years of dealing with Frodo's tenacious nature had made him one of the most patient beings in all of Middle Earth

"Frodo, darling. I've told you already."

As Frodo pouted, Bilbo crossed his arms and gave the boy a stern look. "Now there will be none of that, I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! You will catch your death out there and I would never forgive myself if you ended up getting ill."

Book forgotten on the floor, Bilbo sighed and lifted Frodo onto his lap and smoothed down the unruly curls. It was apparent fairly early on that Frodo had in fact taken after Bilbo in both looks and most aspects of his personality; (but the Durin trait of stubbornness had not been quelled by his Hobbit blood in the slightest.) and his hair was no exception. Bilbo had lost count of the times he would have battles with it, only for his efforts to prove futile against his sons penchant for messing it up as soon as Bilbo turned his back. His mother had similar battles with his own when he was a fauntling and knowing how much he hated her fussing over it as a child, Bilbo resigned himself to just letting it be.

"You have to understand that I'm not trying to be horrible and I'm doing this to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

Frodo nodded solemnly and Bilbo smirked."And anyway, you can't play with Fíli and Kíli if you're poorly now can you?" As if startled Frodo looked up to Bilbo with blue eyes full of hope and clapped his little hands together.

"I can play with Fee and Kee now?" Bilbo smiled, nodding enthusiastically. Instantly Frodo jumped down from his lap and headed straight towards the door.

"Not so fast!" Bilbo says as he comes up behind the little boy and hauls him into his arms. Frodo squealed as he was twirled around, his childish giggles echoing around the Royal chambers. "Papa, let go!"

Bilbo laughs as he turns Frodo in his arms, trying his best to feign a stern impression.

"What happened to my kiss humm?"

Frodo giggled and quickly as he could, puckered his lips and gave Bilbo fleeting kiss before squirming in his arms and trying to loosen Bilbo's hold on him.

"Okay, okay!" Bilbo chuckled and placed the boy on the floor. "Go on." He said, and with a parting pat on his bottom, the boy was gone.

The Hobbit had all but picked up his book again and settled in his chair, thankful for the rare moment of peace and quiet when he heard the door click open with a dull thud. Sighing, he marked his page and placed the book face down on the table to his right, resigning himself to not getting any reading done this day. Thorin came into view and Bilbo knew instantly from one look at him that his husband was not in the best of moods.

"What is it this time?" He questioned, more out of habit then anything else.

"The restoration of the lower mines." Thorin growled out while dropping his coat unceremoniously across the settee. "Those blasted workers are intent on compensation for the extra labour."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow as Thorin stalked over to him, a predatory look in his gaze.

"Awful business that is." The Hobbit quipped as Thorin loomed over him, arms braced on either side of his head.

"Indeed." He chuckled. "And I can't very well go back to-"

"Brooding."

"I do not brood." Thorin sounded indignant.

The Hobbit only smirked, wrapping his arms Thorin's neck and pulling him down to his level.

"Be that as it may, you are right." He trailed kisses down the Dwarfs neck and for his efforts he was rewarded with a groan from the other. "Having a stressed king simply won't do."

"No, won't do at all." Thorin's breath was coming in quicker pants, a sweet warmth at his neck. Suddenly, the room seemed warmer as more layers were removed.

"Frodo?"

"With Fíli and Kíli."

Thorin kissed him gently and responded with his tongue only when the Hobbit invited him to do so. Bilbo ran his hands down Thorin's back and under his shirt until he felt the warm skin beneath, a comforting heat on his palms.

"So will you allow me the pleasure of helping help you unwind, my king?" The only response that his words elicited were a feral growl and Thorin hauling him into his arms. On instinct, Bilbo wrapped his legs around Thorin's waist as they moved towards the bed.

Nothing more was said.


	3. Chapter 3

Sighing sleepily into his pillow, Bilbo could dimly register the feeling lips trailing delicate kisses down the back of his neck through his post-orgasmic haze. Hands roamed his sides in a manner that was less then chaste if Bilbo knew his husband. And he did.

"You are terribly distracting you know that?"

"Mmm." Was the grunted response, Thorin's ministrations on his neck moving higher and around to his jaw.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, and if you don't stop that I'm afraid I'll be powerless to resist your charms."

"I shall brook no argument."

"Oh, I know you wouldn't. But," He turns and positions himself so that now he is looking down on Thorin, arms braced on either side of his shoulders. "It's not for a lack of wanting to..._ proceed_," The Hobbit chances a quick peck to his husbands lips. "More so, it is a matter of not risking our son stumbling in on his parents' lovemaking. And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not be landed with that conversation just yet."

This earned him a laugh from the King beneath him. Not a loud, booming laugh like Kíli's or a hearty chortle like Gloin. No, Thorin laughed in a way that was just, well, inherently Thorin. His almost silent chuckle reverberated deep in his chest and could be felt by the Hobbit sprawled out on top of him, bringing a contented smile to his face. It was nice to see him smile, Bilbo thought as he bushed a raven coloured tress away from the handsome face. Seeing Thorin smile was becoming a rare sight, what with the stress of ruling the mountain and most recently, the disputes with the miners that seemed to take up most of his time. It was because of this rarity that when they presented themselves, Bilbo hoarded those smiles like a dragon does its hoard.

Resisting the urge to sigh, Bilbo pushed the thoughts out of his mind and tried to put it behind him. No matter how it made him feel or how he wished it could be different. He had no choice, he knew, but to put it all swiftly out of his mind. Thorin would go back to dealing with it anyway he saw fit (and hopefully it would all blow over soon) and Bilbo will go about his day and not busy his mind with that which does not concern him. It would be like covering a table with a tablecloth.

"Now _you_," The Hobbit accused, tapping one of Thorin's cheeks playfully. "Have to go back to doing whatever it was you were trying to avoid and _I _must prepare myself for the little hellion that is going to run through that door any minute now."

"I never thought a day would come when I would be unwilling to trade places with you, âzyungâl. And did you not mention he was with those two terrors I call official guards?" Bilbo chuckled and nodded his head, a playful pout on his lips.

Sure enough, not long after Thorin's departure Frodo came bounding into their quarters, his hair in an even worse state of disarray then usual and his chubby cheeks flushed pink from whatever it was he had been up to. It also did not escape his notice that the little boy was significantly dirtier then when he left their rooms earlier but anything Bilbo may have said on the matter was cut short when he found himself with an arm full of little Hobbit.

"Papa!" Frodo squealed and launched himself into Bilbo's arms, clinging to him like a limpet. All the while Fíli and Kíli trodded into the room, trademark grins on their faces. Bilbo stood up and shifted Frodo to balance on his hip.

As he took in the pair, trying to understand just _what _they had been doingit struck him thatthey looked no less dishevelled then Frodo. The Hobbit arched a curious brow and the way the two shifted almost uncomfortably under his gaze and how they seemed determined to look at everything but Bilbo.

"What are you two looking so shifty about about?"

His words seemed to shake the brothers out of their reprieve.

"Nothing!" Fíli fixed his brother with a glare and gave him a dig in the ribs with his elbow.

"Just, you know- the usual. Nothing interesting."

Kíli nodded quickly in confirmation at his brothers words.

"Nothing interesting at all. It was quite dull really."

Their panicked rambling did little to help their overall suspicious appearance but thinking it was just another one of their troublemaking ploys that Bilbo would no doubt here all about from the unfortunate victims tomorrow, The Hobbit simply shook his head and turned to his son.

"What about you Trouble, humm? What did you get up to today?"

Frodo giggled at the moniker his Papa had bestowed upon him before answering.

"Jus' playing."

Bilbo pretended not to see Fíli and Kíli sag in relief at Frodo's answer. He was now positive that they were hiding something from him and he was suspecting that the reason they had decided to linger in their chambers was to make sure the little Dwobbit, as they affectionately referred to him as, did not let anything slip.

He'd get it out of Frodo sooner or later.

"I'm not sure I believe that, little one." The older Hobbit tickled his sons tummy and revelled in the exuberant, almost ethereal sound of his laugher. It was a sound Bilbo would never tire of hearing and he could only hope that the expectations that his future would hold wouldn't take that from him.

"If I know you three trouble makers, and I do, I have a feeling that Daddy will be hearing all about what you got up to."

Fíli and Kíli gasped dramatically and placed their hands over their hearts, feigning hurt.

"Bilbo! Us? Causing trouble? Do you truly think so little of us?"

The Hobbit simply rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the pair.

"You know as well as I do that you're a pair of hellions. Now if you're quite done wallowing in self pity it's time for this little one to have some dinner and then a bath." Frodo groaned and tried to wiggle out of Bilbo's grip. "No Papa! I wanna' keep playing with Fee and Kee."

"You've played with them all day, darling. Now go on, say bye bye and then you, you little Hobbit mongrel are going to scrub every inch of that body!" Frodo only laughed and ran to Fíli and Kíli, giving them a parting cuddle each and a promise of more trouble making to be had come morning.

* * *

So this chapter is pretty much just some light-hearted filler before we get into some plot. *laughs manically with thunder and lightning in the background*


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair, well, for Bilbo's part at least. Frodo ever the precocious little one took to listing of all the adventures he had go on with immense enthusiasm while still leaving out those little details that Bilbo sought after. By the end of it the older Hobbit was still none the wiser to just _where_ he had been or _why_ Fíli and Kíli were so desperate to ensure he never found out. It was driving Bilbo up the wall!

"No matter," He mumbled to himself as he deposited the dirtied dishes into the sink. "Those two can't keep quite to save their lives and they _will _let it slip! Oh ho mark my words!" Exerting a little more force then necessary Bilbo turned his attention back to dutifully scrubbing his dishes.

It was only when bath time rolled around and Thorin returned to their chambers that the real headache for Bilbo began.

Thorin, stoic and all as he is when at the center of his councils attention, could sometimes act like more of a child then Frodo himself. Any remaining stress seemed to melt away and lines that had congregated on his face due to the stress of not only ruling Erebor, but ensuring its prosperity and stability, smooth away making him appear years younger. Having a child had done Thorin a world of good and any who gave as much as a passing glance to the King when surrounded by his family would vouch for that without a moments hesitation. He plays and cares for Frodo that same way any loving parent would and for that Bilbo would be ever thankful, convention be dammed.

It was a long standing tradition in Royal families for the father to have little to no involvement in the raising of their child. In fact, it was not uncommon for aristocratic parents to pass the raising and caring of their children onto nannies or carers until their later years. Bilbo, naturally had been appalled upon hearing the tradition after one of Thorin's council members made a particularly snide remark regarding his interactions with their son.

"_Weakness." The gruff Dwarf had snorted, the venom in Zorin's voice not going unnoticed by Bilbo. "That is all you will instil in the child with your mollycoddling. Mahal wept! The last thing he needs is more weakness from you, Halfling." _

Understandably it had angered Bilbo but the Hobbit simply scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all. No one but himself and Thorin would be raising Frodo, that was certain. As was per tradition in the Shire, they we be the first people Frodo saw when he woke up and the last before he closed his eyes at night. A tradition, Thorin had thankfully been quick to agree with. He himself knew first hand that the segregation between parents and children only did more harm then good to a child.

So now, it's times like this that Bilbo savours, leaning against the wash room door, a content happy smile on his face as his listens to Thorin's deep timber mingling with Frodo's own tone of childish glee. His son was currently giving his father the same treatment that he himself had received earlier in the day, reeling off animated recollections his his own adventures and Thorin, as he always did exclaimed over the stories Frodo was sharing with him and providing him with the rapt attention that would have been more suited to a visiting dignitary. Bilbo smiled to himself and shook his head before knocking gently on the door, breaking the spell of the little Hobbits words.

"Having fun are we?" Bilbo inquired with arms crossed across his chest and a delicate brow arched.

Thorin turned from where he kept a firm grip around the childs waist, an action he did more out of habit then anything else. Long had Frodo learned how to keep himself upright in the deep bath, but still, a half Hobbit he remained and the dislike of all things wet had not been quelled in the little one by any means.

"Oh yes! Did you know that we have quite the adventurer here, âzyungâl?" Frodo giggled as Thorin lifted him gently out of the bath to rest on his lap.

"Indeed I do. I've been hearing about his heroic deeds and noble sidekicks all evening." Bilbo picked up a nearby towel and ruffled Frodo's unruly curls. "And be that as it may, even the biggest adventurers need their sleep."

"Humm, I think Papa may be right don't you? You are no exception mim kalilâl. Go on, ready yourself for bed and we shall be there to tuck you in." Frodo squealed in delight as Thorin blew on his cheek, before scampering off to his own room.

I didn't take long for Frodo to get settled in for the night so with two quick refrains of the lullaby that Thorin had taken to singing to him every night before bed, his deep rumbling tones a constant comfort and almost enough to lull Bilbo sleep as well, and a parting kiss he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

The nights were the time of day that Bilbo looked forward to the most. Not because of the peace they brought, it had been a long time since he found piece of mind with silence. When one had a child as young as Frodo silence never sat well. No, it wasn't the peace or tranquility that made Bilbo love the nights so, it was the time that he and his husband got to spend together alone. It didn't matter how busy either of them were on a particular day, Thorin a lot more as of late, but once night came and Thorin dismissed all further council, they had those few hours before sleep took them free to spend however they wished. And more often then not, that time was spent with each other.

"I miss you, you know?" Thorin turned to give Bilbo a questioning look at the seemingly out of the blue statement. "I've long been used to the hours you spend away from me but as of late it has gotten worse." The King could only sigh as he took a seat next to where Bilbo lay on their bed, one arm propped up under his head and the other absently fiddling with the laces of Thorin's vambraces trying to loosen them.

"I know. But Donriz and Zorin-," He ignored Bilbo's frustrated sigh at the mention of the two Dwarves. "are being quite _persistent _about this latest mining expedition. They think they may have discovered something."

"Have you by any chance taken leave of your senses?" Bilbo's tone was incredulous and tainted with anger. "How could you trust those two after-"

"I know you dislike them, as do I, but that does not change their position nor should it cloud my judgement when it comes to matters such as this."

Donriz and Zorin were the heads of one of Erebor's chief mining companies and had held places at the Royal Council since the reign of Thorin's father and grandfather. They had not by any means been the only Dwarrow that saw Bilbo as an unfit Consort and barer of an heir to the throne but they had by far been the most vocal in both words and actions _especially_ towards the objects of their ire. Most of Erebors inhabitants had taken to Bilbo instantly, the Hobbits fair face and gentle nature winning their hearts. Those who didn't would offer disapproving glances, others would frown and look away. Bilbo was used to either reception but Donriz and Zorin..._well_, they were a different story all together.

The two made no effort to hide their odium towards Bilbo and where others who shared their views would still show him the respect that his title demanded, the pair would show him the least amount of decorum they could get away with. Speaking in hushed tones just loud enough for Bilbo to hear had been enough to solidify his opinion on them and Bilbo had decided that they did not sit well with him. _Not one bit. _

"Just please Thorin, be weary of them. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them and I can't help but feel uneasy about them." Thorin stroked his thumb over Bilbo's cheek in an effort to calm the irate Hobbit. Bilbo leaned into the touch and felt any remaining tension melt away from his body being replaced by a comforting warmth.

"I promise you, if I feel they are up to anything, _anything_ at all, you can send Nori after them and I'm sure he will find out all you need to know." Bilbo could only chuckle.

"Good. Now come to bed! It's still freezing in this confounded mountain and I want my Dwarf blanket!" Thorin chuckled as he climbed under the furs and wrapped himself around his husband.

With Bilbo curled into Thorin's front the pair feel into the most peaceful sleep that either had for some time, only waking by a faint tapping on the floor and the sound of pained whimpers in their ears.

* * *

_So now we have a little bit of what is gonna be a two way (maybe even three way!) storyline. I wonder what those two are up to humm? Also I wanna apologize for taking so bloody long to update! I'm going to Poland on a school trip next Saturday and I wanted to get something up before then asdfghlk;; Anywhoo, I hope you enjoy this and I promise I won't take so long next time! _


	5. Chapter 5

Hearing the sound of pained whimpering reach his ears Bilbo woke with a start. Slightly bemused and still not yet fully out of his sleepy haze, he turned to his left to see Thorin still sleeping peacefully at his side, one arm securely over his waist.

Confusion fogs his mind for the briefest of moments before he feels a subtle but sure weight dip the heavy furs covering himself and his husband. Another pitiful whine reaches his ears and it's then then the foggy hazy of sleep leaves him, his senses return and instincts kick in.

"Frodo?"

He calls out, his voice no more then a hushed whisper. He didn't want to wake Thorin, what with this being the first good nights sleep his husband had gotten for longer then Bilbo could recall.

"Darling what's wrong?" In no time fly Bilbo finds himself with his an arm full of little Hobbit, gasped sobs leaving the small, quivering form in quick succession of each other, the force of them shaking his small frame.

Bilbo, wasting no time at all gathered his son into his arms, starting up a gentle rocking motion in a bid to calm the child down.

It didn't work.

"Hush sweetling, it's alright."

The older Hobbit rubbed long soothing strokes of his hand up and down Frodo's back, a small comfort he found had always managed to calm his little one down. With no small amount of effort Bilbo managed to keep his voice steady and the tears at bay. Never before had he been unable to comfort his child and he was sure that the mixture of hurt and confusion would be evident on face had there been anyone to see.

"Hey, hey, calm down little one. Tell me what's happened." Sobs continued to rack the small form in his arms and Bilbo was sure he felt his heart break at the sound. Now at a complete and utter loss, Bilbo did the only other thing he could think of.

He remembered back to when he was a child and how his mother would comfort him during the long Winter months when illness or nightmares took him in their chilly and unrelenting grasp. He remembered her whispered words of comfort and quiet humming and how it always brought him peace until sleep eventually claimed him and he could rest easy.

Gathering his son in his arms in a secure hold, Bilbo tucked the faunt close to his chest in the hope that the rhythmic beat of his heart and the low humming combined with his steady rocking would help calm the child down enough so that he could actually tell Bilbo what had happened to get him in this state in the first place.

Finally and thankfully it seemed to do the trick and Bilbo let out a sigh of relief and a silent thanks to his mother as the violent sobs that shook Frodo's entire body subsided, leaving in their wake shuddering intakes of breath the seemed to rattle in the little ones chest.

"Bilbo?"

The older Hobbit looked to the left at the mention of his name and sighed. It seemed that his efforts to avoid waking Thorin had been proven futile as the commotion had done a rather good job at shunning his efforts. Thorin blinked blearily up at the pair huddled on the other side of the bed, his brow that had once been smoothed out by sleep was now furrowed in confusion when he catches sight of Frodo's tear stained, sickly pale face.

"What-"

"I don't know!" Bilbo manages to sob out as he finally loses his battle with the tears that brimmed his eyes threatening to fall, now flowing freely down his flushed cheeks leaving wet tracks that shined silver in the crepuscular light cast by the fire.

"I don't know." He says again, this time more subdued as if he was admitting defeat.

"He came to me in a state and I've only just managed to calm him down. Thorin what's wrong with my baby?" Bilbo moved to brush Frodo's matted curls to the side but pulled his hand back as if it had been burned once he made contact with the boys forehead.

"He's scalding hot! Thorin we need to get him to a healer, this can't be normal!"

Thorin reaches over to feel for himself, worry etched into his handsome features and when he pulls back the pained expression seems to only worsen. "I will call for Oín. Stay with him and try to get that fever to break!"

Bilbo blinked owlishly at him, mouth working uselessly, but before words could form Frodo took into a fit of croupy coughing, his pallor turning from grey to green.

Noting the Hobbit's hesitation, Thorin leaned over and pressed a kiss to Bilbo's forehead, smoothing a hand over the downy curls on Frodo's head. "I will be back quickly. I promise."

Knowing what was sure to happen Bilbo nodded frantically and gathered the boy in his arms and into the washroom just before he curled in on himself and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. Bilbo could do little else but rub Frodo's back and sooth the sobbing child through the heaves. Frodo was a right mess by the end of it all and Bilbo could only hope that Thorin wouldn't take too long to fetch Oín.

"Papa it hurts!"

Bilbo's heart broke all over again.

"I know darling, I know. But Oín is going to come and make you right as rain alright?"

"Make it better?" Bilbo kissed his sweaty forehead.

"Make it better." Bilbo confirmed, but he couldn't help the niggling thought at the back of his mind that was telling him it wouldn't be so easy.

What seemed like an age later Bilbo heard the door open and close with a heavy clang. Frodo had managed to doze off in his arms and he was now sitting on his and Thorin's bed softy singing a lullaby to the boy in his arms. Soon enough the sound of heavy boots on stone tiles reached his ears as both Dwarves shuffled into the room, Thorin looking unusually flustered and Oín looking pensive.

He took one look at the boy and tutted.

"How long has he been like this?"

"Not yet a half hour." Bilbo's brow furrowed. "He'll be alright won't he?"

Oín didn't answer, opting to continue his examination of the faunt in Bilbo's arms humming and tutting mentally noting all that he needed to know.

"Well?" Thorin prompted once Oín stepped back to the edge of the bed, his face contorted into an unreadable expression.

"He's the third to come down with it in a fortnight. Always starts like this and it only gets worse if left untreated from what I've seen."

"Well then, what are you waiting for! Give him something!" Bilbo couldn't hold back his frustration at the healer dilly dallying about. He would apologize for his tone later but now he just needed to know Frodo would be alright.

Oín sighed, long and cryptically. "I'm afraid, lad, that's the problem. 'Tis a sickness of Men."

Bilbo instinctively pulled Frodo closer to himself as he listened to the healer with rapt attention.

"Once it takes hold it's awfully hard to get rid of. I say he's the third I've seen, I've lost the other two to it not three nights back." Bilbo gasped and choked on a sob.

"A sickness of Men?" Thorin broke his silence, his voice dangerously low. "Where would he have picked up such a thing? He has not left the mountain!"

"I'm just saying what I know lad. I can do very little but give him something to help with that nasty croup but from here, I'm afraid it's up to our mim kalilâl."

Hand covering his mouth, Bilbo could do little else but stare blankly ahead as his tears fell freely.

* * *

*whispers* I'm sorry. Buuuuut! now we've finally got the plot into motion! What do you think has/is going to happen? I love hearing your theories!

Mim kalilâl- Little trickster. Just something the they have all taken to calling Frodo.


End file.
